by Amy Lignor
That was the first time he looked away. "Thanks," he mumbled, looking very much like a young boy who'd just pleased his parents. "I love the fans. Without them I'd have nothing at all."
"Huh," I repeated, as I turned to Nicole who was already halfway through her salad using meticulous and quick bites. "Different breed."
She nodded. "You only have twenty minutes left." she said, as I realized that the challenge was on and I was definitely losing.
Matt's mouth was full of fish and chips as I plunged ahead, not wanting to waste a second of the time I had allotted.
"Look, I'm gonna just give you a quick rundown. Yes, I am Lily and, no, fans don't know who I am. The reason is something really silly, actually."
Nicole's voice stopped me in my tracks. "It was NOT silly." She stared at the man who I really wanted to just keep eating. "When I first read her book and the idea for the series, I knew it was going to be huge. Suffice to say, before the book ever came out we sent out promotional copies to various reviewers, sites, blogs, etcetera. The book had her picture on the inside flap." Nicole's eyes grew a bit regretful. "Which is completely normal."
Glancing at me as if I should continue, I simply moved my gaze to the window, really not wanting to go over this story yet again. I could feel him staring at my profile but I didn't make a sound.
Nicole sighed. "The book was a smash hit with these guys before it even came out and, even though you might not think so, the literary community is very small. The word started to spread through the industry insiders. Unfortunately…one of those particular people was so enthralled by…Lily's writing and her photo, that he went a little overboard."
I sighed, keeping my gaze intent on the Frisbee players outside.
"Overboard?" Matt's voice was quiet.
Nicole sighed heavily. "He became a stalker."
"What?"
Nicole spoke quickly. "Look, no harm, no foul. It's all over now and she doesn't like to talk about it."
"Yet, here we sit talking about it…again," I mumbled.
Nicole continued on, "Anyway, we thought it would be best to release the book with no picture and simply give her the pen name, Lily Stone. That way, no one would ever know her and she would be safe."
He turned to me. "So what's your real name?"
I took a deep breath. "Beth. Elizabeth Carrier."
His eyes grew soft. "Now, that sounds like a romance novel."
~ His ~
I can't really explain the shot of fear and serious anger that went through me when Nicole told me the beautiful lady's story. For some reason, I just couldn't deal with the fact that someone out there had tried to harm her, even though he obviously—thank Christ—hadn't been successful. All I could picture in my mind was slicing the head off the scumbag just for fun. Oddly enough, I also felt a little bad. I mean, after all this lovely woman had done and the stunning words she'd written, for her to not even be able to take credit for them seemed almost cruel.
I smiled. "Beth…it fits you."
She laughed. "Boring and dull! You got it!"
I shook my head, trying to stop the fantasies from taking over my mind. "No. Warm and lovely."
"Trust me," she swallowed. "I'm more of a librarian who tells you what to do and is a real snotface about things."
"You kill them with your brains, huh?"
A strange light began to burn inside the sultry eyes, as if I was sending out a challenge. "I'm a Scorpio, son. I can tear you apart."
I wanted the challenge. "Really? Okay… What's the Italian word for family?"
"Famiglia," she responded quickly. The perfect accent shot a bolt of lightning through my soul. Why? Because I could only imagine the sexy Italian dinners we could create together in my kitchen one day.
I cleared my throat. "Okay, that was easy. How about…best movie Oscar for…1965?" I picked one out of thin air, wondering if this woman who had no time for T.V. or cinema knew this—especially from a year far before her time.
I sat back. I could almost see that librarian appear, as the chocolate brown eyes grew darker and an imaginary card catalogue flipped open inside her head. "The Sound of Music, but most people still think Doctor Zhivago should have taken it."
I suddenly had to stump her. I don't know why. Maybe it was because I was a Scorpio, too, and it was beyond a challenge now. I leaned forward. When all else fails, go for sports. "Who won the World Cup in 1982?"
With a slight rolling of the eyes, that beautiful voice responded fast, "Italy. It was their first title in forty-eight years."
Crossing her long legs, she leaned back in her chair with her cup of coffee wearing a satisfied smile. I swear, either a fish or a chip got stuck so deep in my throat when I saw that glimpse of perfect leg from underneath the black leather skirt that my windpipe closed. I expected to die right there.
She looked out the window, quietly passing the baton back to Nicole. "So Matt, will you do Beth's role?"
I shook the fantasy from my mind, but continued to stare at Beth. "If you believe I can do it I'd love to try."
She turned back to me fast and reached out to take my hand. "I know you can do it. This is so important to Amber, and you have that emotion that can lock on to an audience. You have such skill in your face, your eyes…you are going to bring the house down with applause, and you WILL convince someone in that audience that they have to be Amber's dad."
All I could do was shake my head; I was literally enthralled, as she jumped out of her chair. I tried to stand, but she placed her hand on my shoulder and gave me a truly beautiful smile. "You will keep me a secret, though, right? The whole Lily Stone thing?"
"I won't say a word. I definitely don't want to share you with anybody." I'd never meant words more in my life.
"Cool! You're the absolute best, Matt McKenna!"
I wanted to reach out. I wanted to stop her, but like a lavender breeze from the gardens outside she got past me and headed to where Bobby was waiting. I could hear her small shout of glee and I felt such pride knowing that I'd been the one to make her day.
At the last moment, she elegantly turned and walked back toward us. That gasp once again stuck in my lungs as she smiled at me and leaned on the table to stare at Nicole. "By the way, I have a minute left on my hour. You owe me a hundred bucks."
"I really do hate you," Nicole sneered.
With that, the stunning body leaned over and kissed her friend on the cheek.
I was beyond thrilled. I had made Beth Carrier happy, and all I could hope as she walked out the doors laughing with Bobby, was that it wasn't the last time I was able to do so.
I finally realized that the vision was gone and turned back to the agent's slightly frowning face.
"What was that bet about?" I asked.
She sighed. "I bet her there was no way she could get you to do this because you most likely wanted to sing and dance more than act."
"Actually, I like them all. But I love to act. I just hope I'm good enough for her."
Nicole rolled her eyes. "Trust me, hon, she wouldn't have told you who she was if you weren't the right guy."
My heart jumped a bit in my chest, taking her words in a whole different way.
Nicole offered me a slightly confused stare. "She must really trust you. You are trustWORTHY? Right?"
I nodded immediately. "Very. I won't sell her out."
"Good." Her gaze filled with worry. "I still get nervous sometimes."
"Did they get the guy?"
"Yeah. I mean, he was beyond a 'crush,' but he wasn't a crazy who thought he was a vampire, or anything. But because of him, Beth hates the way she looks."
I raised an eyebrow at the ridiculous statement. "What?"
"Well…I should rephrase that." Nicole sat back. "Beth really doesn't understand the way she looks. To her, the whole 'beauty' thing was just something that guys wanted in high school, you know? They grabbed, leered, hit on her, etcetera, but that never really changed as she got older and Beth just doesn't
get it. She blows the 'whistles' off; she ignores them and just thinks those men feel about her like how our little waitress feels about you.
I chuckled.
"Beth doesn't flaunt it. In fact, she doesn't even see it. To her, that thick, long hair is just a big mess, even though to most men she looks like a sex-kitten who should be in their bed."
I tried not to change my face in any way, hoping that Nicole didn't see the heat that her friend stirred in me.
"She wears hardly any make-up, so she figures she automatically looks bad. But as you can see, she doesn't need any."
I nodded.
"And her clothes. Most of them are just professional business outfits, and sweats when she's at home laying on the couch shooting the shit with Bobby over sports. But the girl could make a trash bag look sexy, and she just doesn't notice."
"I noticed that she blushes when a compliment is given," I said. "She turns it into a joke."
Nicole smiled. "Beth has the gift of sarcasm. But she's even unique at that because she's funny without being mean, you know?"
Sighing, Nicole offered me a look of pure love for her friend. "Look, Matt. Beth has a heart bigger than anyone ever created, and she's doing all this for Amber. All she wants is for her to have a family. But most people, as you probably already know, adopt babies. They don't want older children."
"And Beth believes this event will change that?"
"Her work shows the true wonders of what a child can do to make a life absolutely perfect." It was as if she stared into my soul, as she continued, "You will, no doubt, hit it out of the park because Beth IS always right. She believes that couple will be in the audience and Amber's dream WILL come true."
I cleared my throat. "I'm going to have to speak with Beth…about the material. I don't want to screw this up."
Nicole nodded. "Beth and Bobby will head back to Connecticut this afternoon. She lives there part-time—her writing retreat, she calls it." Nicole reached into her mammoth bag. "Let me give you the phone number."
"Actually." I sat up straighter. "I will have to talk to her face-to-face." I tried to keep my tone professional, yet I could almost hear the pleading buried in my words. "So I'll need the address."
The agent simply stopped and stared at me.
"I'm not going up there to hit on her."
Her eyes grew small and worried.
"I'm going up there for the sake of the play."
Slowly she began to nod. "You should bring your friend with you."
"I'm sorry?"
"That Chris fellow. He said he was exhausted earlier. He might want a little downtime, too."
The wheels began spinning in my mind. I could tell that no address would be given if it was just me. And then, she smiled. I could feel the strings of a diabolical plan running between us. Her words, her nuances, her passing of the paper to me with Beth's address written in dark and sturdy letters, all made me think I had found a supporter in a plan that I didn't even have.
Chris's face when he met Bobby for the first time flashed through my mind. All he'd be is an actor needing a break, and I would be the consummate professional who needed the writer's vision to make sure my performance was the best it could be. Simple. "Chris does need some downtime."
Nicole's eyebrows furrowed on her forehead. "Beth's tough. She loves a challenge but being the subject of one is not her thing. I've never seen her let a guy through the door, so whoever tries is gonna need some serious courage to make it. I mean, if they wanted to know more about her."
I felt the strength of a lion suddenly well-up inside me. The odd part was, I wasn't thinking about the hair, the eyes, the perfect legs, or any other pieces of the package. All I could think about was the fire that'd come from Beth's soul when she professed her mission for Amber.
I stood up and offered Nicole a hand, as she stepped forward and walked by my side out the door. "It's really boring up in Connecticut, by the way."
"Boring is just what I need," I replied honestly. "I like being a homebody. I've been going full-tilt for the past three years and I need some relaxation."
"Relaxation?" Nicole laughed out loud and elbowed me in the side. "Well, good luck with that…Romeo."
Six
~ Hers ~
I was beyond happy. Exhausted, of course, but that's what time with Nicole can do to a girl.
I had been so excited after Matt McKenna had said 'yes' that for the first time I ran right past my favorite place, patted Patience and Fortitude on the head, and raced back to the theatre to tell Amber—who was also beyond excited. I swear, it was as if I'd just given her Barney's home address and she was off to party with the purple and green 'beastie boy.'
Even the car ride, which is usually incredibly long and boring, was fun. Bobby, as always, kept the pedal to the floor on the endless maze of back roads. Singing songs on the radio, moving with the beat, Bobby and I even stopped at The Tavern on the way back to have some brews with the crew.
I sang my favorites, got the crowd riled up, gyrated my hips to get rid of all the extra caffeine I downed at lunch and had a ball. When Bobby belted out the last chord with Lady Gaga, we said our goodbyes and headed down the hill for home.
"Well, you got him!" Bobby laughed.
"I know. I'm so excited, I can't even tell you."
He gazed out the window, slowing just a tad as twilight turned to darkness and the deer came out to play on the vicious curves. "And you don't think he'll run to a tabloid, or something?"
I swallowed my beer. Bobby wasn't drinking; we were always careful. "No. He's like us. Well, let's face it; he's way more famous than I so he knows what it would do. Besides, he seems like he has a kind heart. He was really nice to Amber, and that waitress. Did you see him stop before he got to the table and try to steady her to keep her from falling? That's a kind person right there."
Bobby began to laugh. "God, you are so naive. The guy was trying to help her, yes, but the only reason he stopped in his tracks is because he took his eyes off her and saw you."
I sighed. "Not this again. Come on…he was a gentleman the entire time—even asked me questions about sports. Totally not into me at all."
Bobby glanced my way. "He didn't make one single comment about your looks?"
I shrugged. "The standard stuff that all guys say to be nice. He wasn't icky, though. Besides, he was probably thinking about Nicole. God knows that woman is hell on wheels. He might have dead-stopped to look for the exits so he could make a clean getaway if she pulled out a revolver."
Bobby shook his head. "Yeah, I'm sure that was it."
I punched him in the shoulder. "Amber really likes him, and you know that girl is a harder judge of character than our precious Nicole."
"That's true. And you're not into him in the least, I suppose?"
I practically choked on the brew. "Duh. This guy's face is perfect; he has handsome down-pat, but the lines that come out on his forehead and how his eyes crinkle when he laughs? That is pure human expression. Hollywood hasn't ripped that from this one yet. He looks mature but totally swoon worthy, which will have the ladies in the audience lovin' me to death."
I giggled, as I continued, "And the body of a dancer…hello? All firm and muscled—the package is perfect. But this guy has way more than that. With his talent, he could very well be Amber's knight in shining armor!"
"And that would be great," Bobby agreed. "But I meant, are you into him?" He threw me a wink.
I could feel a strange jolt in my heart. "I have too much on my plate, Bobby. I would be horrific girlfriend material, especially for a guy who's probably part of the big Hollywood clubbing scene, or whatever. You know I want a homebody—someone to cook with, watch sports with, play with, and joke around with. "I looked over at him and smiled. "You know, you, just into girls. Besides, can you imagine me in a ball gown at a big Hollywood red carpet event? Absolutely laughable."
Bobby sighed. "Actually, I could very much see that. It would be nice to see an actual bea
utiful woman on one of those men's arms and not a spray-painted model who can only put a hand on her hip and smile when you wind her up."
I was surprised at the tone. "Why so angry, mister? What's up with you?"
"Nothing," he sighed. "I just think you should take care of you sometimes, you know? Not all guys out there are slime. There are some with really good hearts."
"Jesus, you just met the guy four hours ago," I said, rolling my eyes. "Aren't you the guy who took almost six months just to have a conversation with our local dry cleaner?"
"I still say there's something odd about that guy," he announced. Keeping his eyes on the road, Bobby's voice fell an octave, "Sometimes you just know. I talked to the guy. I think he's real."
A light clicked on in my head as a young, handsome face pushed the picture of Amber running into her new parent's arms aside. "Wait a minute. This isn't about McKenna. This is about Christopher Haven."
Sending me a glare, he pressed down on the gas pedal.
"Slow down, Superfoot." I smiled at the suddenly rigid profile. "You like him."
"Don't be ridiculous, I met the guy for like two seconds."
I shot his words back at him. "Shouldn't you be taking care of you, Bobby? I'm pretty sure that hiding in a cabin in the woods with a female writer who's a real pain in the ass isn't where you're going to find the love of your life."
He shrugged. "We go into the city all the time."
"Yes, and you know you'd rather spend time there. So why come out here with me? I love you. You're my best friend. But you should have a life." I continued, trying to get my point into that stubborn head, "I say, head back into the city tomorrow, find Mr. Haven and go on a date."
"A date?" Bobby sat back like I'd slapped him across the face.
"Yeah. You know, one of those things where two people get dressed up, go out and talk and stuff?"
He raised his finger in the air. "Don't start with me. When was your last date night?"
I drank down the rest of the beer, completely ignoring the words that were flowing from his mouth. "Come on…Christopher was cute. Seriously cute. And he was intelligent. Hello? That's a two for one that doesn't come around very often."
